I Remember Jerry best at work

Two drawknives

A peavey

And an ax

A tractor trailer load

Of spiles

Oak trees

From up north

We’d bark

Me a teenage

Local kid

Him a father

Fresh from San Miguel

He came with Bernadette

And the girls

Work for Manuel Santos

In the cemetery


For rent

Bob snatched him up

For Morgan Marine

I signed on

Fresh from high school

As Grant and Carbon

Took the reins

Building docks

Setting blocks


All that stuff

Jerry didn’t drive

Didn’t drill

Didn’t use power tools

They scared him

Old world Azore man

Rather work by hand

He learned to drive

At Grant’s Pit

Barking spiles

He’d drive my car

Clarance Barry’s

54 Caddy

He was short

Behind the wheel

Floating over

Big Katama

Thank you man’s

When he died last week

I did the math

Jerry was just 32 or so

Back in 1970

When we raced

To bark the most

Both of us

To prove

Who we were

So many tows

And piers

and jobs

Between us now

I’d see him as the years

Slipped by

And always

Deep within those eyes

So dark

And strong

And full

Of what it takes

To make it work

Before he died

I ran into my friend again

Bob Morgan’s Funeral

Was the time

We shook

And sighed

And laughed

And said

All those wordless things

We shared

I did get to say

I had his drawknife

In the shop

Always sharp

It stays

Ready for an oak

To peel

Just like in the day

— Steve Ewing